


Whispers in Time

by funkytoes



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Angst, But Everything Else Is Canon, Family Fluff, Fluff, Reincarnation, Romance, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-23
Updated: 2018-06-01
Packaged: 2019-04-26 23:04:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14412411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/funkytoes/pseuds/funkytoes
Summary: During a backpacking trip through Scandinavia, Astrid Hofferson's life gets turned upside down when she finds herself sent back in time, to the Viking age, where she apparently looks just like the recently deceased wife of a Viking Chief named Hiccup. Can Astrid find her way back to the present day? Or is she stuck in the past forever? [time travel. reincarnation]





	1. Chapter 1

She leaned against the railing, looking out across the dark water. The sun was just starting to rise—she had taken the ‘early boat,’ as it was called, before the sun rose or when most inhabitants of the island the airport was located were awake. It would be hours before they reached Berk. She breathed in deeply, taking in the refreshing sea air with a long, content sigh.

This trip would do her good, she reminded herself. Breakups were hard, no matter how long people were dating for. The fact that she and Jason had been dating for _two years_ just showed how much she needed this trip. How much she needed to _get away._

Astrid Hofferson was not the romantic sort—at least, she didn’t consider herself to be. And when Jason had knelt down on one knee, and offered her the ring he had painstakingly picked out for her… she had felt noting but terror. Terror that this would be ‘it’. She had, of course, refused him. They had fought about it, and broken up shortly afterwards.

He called her every day for a month after their breakup. It didn’t make any difference. She had made up her mind.

So here she was, on a backpacking trip through Scandinavia—a little foolishly, as she was by herself—but she was enjoying the trip. Greenland and Iceland first, and now the Barbaric Archipelago. Later, she would arrive in Norway and then Sweden. Then she would fly home and start life over.

She sat down on a bench, shrugging off her hiker’s backpack and placing it between her legs, holding it in place with her knees. Her face and body were somewhat damp from the sea foam spray, but she honestly couldn’t care. Besides, she didn’t feel like having pointless conversations right now, and every one inside was being far too chatty for this early in the morning. No, she would much rather stay out here and enjoy the sunrise.

She looked over her shoulder, at the dark water, and frowned when she saw something shift under the waves—a large form sliding through the water, and then away, into the depths. A whale, she thought. It must be a whale. What else was that large and lived in water? She grinned. It looked like this part of the trip was off to the right start.

She looked back, focusing her eyes on the sunrise, until the breaching sun became too much for her eyes, and she closed them, leaning against the railing, glad for her warm coat and letting herself be rocked by the waves.

By the time the boat reached the docks of Berk, three and a half more hours had passed, and Astrid was not only nauseous, but her legs were itching for land. For _something solid_ beneath her feet. As her feet hit the dock with a shuddering feeling, her legs wobbled slightly, before she finally found her footing.

“There you go, Lassie,” one of the steamship authority workers said, smiling kindly at her. “Welcome to Berk.”

She nodded, giving him a tight smile, before heading out towards the terminal, where she would hopefully find a map to buy, as well as better information on hostels in the area she could stay at. The terminal was located at the top of a cliff, and she had to climb a great height of docks, winding up the cliff face, until she reached the top. She found both map and information on hostels at the terminal. Berk only had one hostel, it seemed, for they rarely got hitchhikers or backpackers. No worries. She was well adept at pitching a tent wherever was convenient.

She was just about to leave the terminal, a folded map in a pocket on her backpack, and a bag with a sandwich, chips, an apple, and a water bottle she bought from the concessions stand in her hand, when a man stepped in her path.

“Hello there, Miss,” he said, grinning cheerily down at her.

Her hackles rose slightly, automatically in defense mode, before realizing that this man meant her no harm. Instead, he was holding a brochure. “Yes?” she asked, realizing that she wouldn’t be able to get around him without at least humoring him for a short while.

“First time in Berk?” the man asked.

She nodded. Berk was a small town—there was no way this man _didn’t_ know that she was a first timer.

“Well!” theman said, brightening considerably, clapping his hands together. “Yer more than welcome to join us on _Berks Amazing Tours_. Best tours in the Archipelago.” He motioned towards a bus—rickety and looking somewhat like it was put back together far too many times.

“Uh,” she said, peering around him before looking back at his face. “I’m sorry,” she said, “I’m not here for the… tourist… thing.”

She walked around him, heading towards the sidewalk that led out of the steamship authority.

“And ye’re not curious about them dragons?” the man called out after her.

She paused, turning to look at him with an incredulous expression. She had heard that the people of Berk—ages ago in the Viking time—had believed in dragons. _Really_ believed in them. That the legends of Berk told that they even flew dragons. Ridiculous, but… her interest was piqued.

She paid her fair, and joined the other tourists on the bus.

* * *

 

“And over there you’ll see last standing feeding trough of the dragons,” the man, whom Astrid learned was called Fiddlestort by the villagers, and everyone else it seemed. The tourists oohed and ah-ed, clearly taken in, or willingly so, by the man’s vibrant storytelling. Astrid rolled her eyes. Fictional or no, there was no need for grown men and women acting like giddy children every time Fiddlestort mentioned dragons, or something related to dragons.

“And there, a roost—you’ll still see plenty of those around,” Fiddlestort said, waving to the right. The bus swerved slightly, and Astrid grabbed the windowsill, gritting her teeth as the bus straightened out. She wouldn’t be surprised if she _died_ on this bus before she even got a chance to trek some of Berk’s famous terrains.

“Uh, Sir?” a young boy asked, raising his hand. “What _happened_ to the dragons?”

A few of the adults grinned at each other, and Astrid rolled her eyes at that as well.

“Well, laddie,” Fiddlesnort said, looking at the boy in his rear view mirror, “Ye see, the dragons all went into the sea. Disappeared, one by one, slowly over the years, until they were all gone.”

“Oh…” the little boy said, before looking out the window, at the ocean in the distance.

Astrid also looked out at the ocean. She wanted to hike by the beach, but she read one had to have a certain permit to pitch a tent on the beaches of Berk. No matter, it was free to walk along the shore, at least.

“Hey, Mr—Fiddlesnort, Sir?” she asked, raising a hand, “Mind if I get of here?”

The bus slowed to a halt, and Astrid and her large backpack squeezed by the other passengers until she got to the door. “Thanks,” she said, without much luster, before heading down the steps to the pavement.

“Lassie,” Fiddlesnort said, smiling at her, and wagged a finger in her direction. “Don’t forget, love can find you in mysterious ways.”

She opened her mouth to demand what he could possibly mean by that disturbing sentence, but the door closed and the bus took off, veering down the road without her. She stared after it, before heading up the path, and out of the village of Berk.

The island of Berk was just as beautiful as the pictures on the internet said. As she made her way up the long path, heading northward—she _hoped—_ she took note that the path was quiet worn. It wasn’t until three hours had passed, and she stopped to each lunch and drink some water, that she realized the grayness of the clouds, and the darkness of the sky. She swore, and finished her meal, getting to her feet.

She was not ignorant to the fact that most of Berks’ weather was stormy and unforgiving—but she had been assured that _this_ time of year, she would be given no trouble hiking. Clearly whoever said that had their sources wrong. Or perhaps, she assured herself, it was just a random storm… regardless, she turned back towards the village when the wind started picking up again. She would stay in the hostel tonight. No need to risk a sleeping outside in this weather.

She stopped short, when she realized the path that should have been leading _downward_ , was leading _upward_ , instead. Frowning, she took note of her surroundings, squinting in the wind. Something was wrong—she didn’t recognize this place, though she surely had to have walked through it to get to where she had lunch. On that note, she couldn’t see the village of Berk anymore. In fact, she had to admit that she seemed to have gotten…

“Lost,” she whispered, her eyes wide. She swore again, grabbing the map from her pack’s pocket, and opening it up. But the wind had other plans, ripping it from her hands. She watched in dismay as the map flittered into the air, before violently hurling itself off the cliff.

“ _Great_ ,” she muttered. No choice but to choose one direction and stick with it for now. She continued on, hurrying as quickly as she could, looking for some relief from the wind and rain.

Soon, she found it difficult to even see in the torrential downpour. She heard a flutter of wings—like a bat’s, but far too loud, beating against the rain. She looked up, and _screamed_ at the sight of what looked like a dinosaur before her, claws outstretched, reaching for her.

She scrambled away—too fast—and right to the edge of a cliff. Screaming again as her hiking boots slipped on slick grass, her pack fell from her shoulders and plummeted down out of her sight, and soon she followed.

* * *

 

She didn’t fall far. Something caught her, knocking the air out of her and no doubt leaving some nasty bruises. “Let go!” she yelled, as the creature landed on the cliff. It let out a purring noise, rubbing its large head against her back. She fell over, spinning onto her back and staring up at what could only be described as some kind of… _dinosaur?_ But how was _that_ possible?

The creature was tall, very tall, with a spiked tail and a large, bird-like head, and _wings_. Blues and yellows were its dominant colors, but… it was too dark to see much except its gleaming eyes.

Her eyes widened in panic, and she scooted backwards, away from the monster, that looked down at her, no doubt excited at having a snack.

When she heard another beat of wings against the storm, she realized that this _may_ just be her last moments, before she was eaten by some kind of Jurassic Park situation. She curled up into a ball, covering her head with her hands.

“Stormfly!” she heard a man’s voice yell over the storm. “Hold on… shit…” then some words she could not hear, and something—a _human_ hand, touched her shoulder. “It’s alright, Miss,” the man said. “Stormfly won’t hurt you.”

The thing had a name. That was odd. But a human was promising. A human meant shelter. A human meant safety. Astrid uncurled slightly, looking up at the man’s face.

The man was handsome, in his early thirties at most, with medium length auburn hair, freckles, crooked teeth and nose. His eyes were a dark green, or perhaps it was just too dark to tell. He was tall, but crouched over her, that was hard to tell that as well. But his good looks were not what caused Astrid’s breath to hitch in her throat.

It was the fact that the man stared at her, wide eyed, pale as if he had just seen a ghost. After a few moments, wherein the rain began to slow, and the storm subside, he asked, his voice shakings lightly, “Astrid?”

It was then that she realized that the man was wearing clothes similar to the Viking reenacters she saw in the previous island. But whatever this man was, he shouldn’t have known her name. “Do we know each other?” she asked, as the wind began to die down.

She realized with a shock that the rain had stopped, which meant that the man before her no longer had a rain streaked face, but a tear streaked one. Why was he crying at the mere sight of _her_? And _how_ did he know her name?

“Astrid…” he said, softly, unbelievingly, reaching for her. Her eyes widened in surprise when he touched her face, before pulling her into a tight embrace, ignoring her yelp of surprise. “You died,” he whispered into her hair. “I saw you die with my own two eyes…”

Then he pulled away slightly, and kissed her.

Her heart still beating in her throat from the fall off the cliff, she soon found herself passing out in his arms.

* * *

 

**To be continued…?**

**Hi!! Thanks for reading the first chapter of this time traveling/reincarnation fic! For those of you who don’t like modern au’s, most of this story takes place in canon day Berk :) Astrid’s the only main modern part of this story.**

**I’d love to know if you’d like to read more of this story!! :)**


	2. Chapter 2

Astrid groaned, feeling as though someone had punched her in the ribs—multiple times. Her vision was blurry at first, when she managed to open her eyes. The first thought that came to her was that she was _not_ in a hospital bed. Or even in a hospital. She was in some strange cabin—a hunting lodge, perhaps? It had a very rustic feel to it. He eyes cleared, as she gazed at her surroundings in confusion.

Her eyes widened in fear, and she squeezed them shut again.

That monster—the _dinosaur_ creature _thing—_ was peering down at her, tilting its head and giving out small chirps. Astrid squeezed her eyes tighter, before opening them again. The creature was still there.

“Please, please, _please_ don’t eat me,” she whispered, her body shaking despite herself. “Please don’t eat—”

The creature nudged her, and Astrid went rigid with fright.

There didn’t seem to be anyone around, and she wasn’t sure there would be anyone to hear her if she yelled out for help. Whatever this creature was, it wasn’t natural—or at least, not part of the natural world. Trying to steady her breathing, she slowly, carefully, slipped from the bed. The creature watched her every move, tilting its head curiously every time she made any movement.

“Okay,” she said, slowly, carefully, as she back away from the creature in small, slow increments. “I’m just going to—”

But her clothing was gone, as was her pack. She paled—she was wearing nothing but a nightgown, and since her pack and the clothes she had worn yesterday were gone, she would have to escape wearing nothing but _this._ “Okay,” she said, looking up at the dinosaur, “I’m just going to go through this door.”

She bumped against it, not having judged the distance from the end to the door with much accuracy. She fumbled for the doorknob, before realizing there was none. She opened the door slowly, inwards, the dinosaur gazing at her with a look of growing anxiety.

With one, sloppy movement, Astrid hurried through the door, closing it behind her as the dinosaur let out a bellow of anger. Astrid gave out a shriek as she felt something thud against the door, then again as the dinosaur apparently began to throw itself at the too-small entrance.

Astrid fled down the stairs, through what looked like some old, Viking house preserved to perfection, and towards what she hoped was the front door. Grabbing the handle, she pulled it inwards, and was just about to escape, when she thudded into something—or someone.

Spinning in her effort to get away from the person, she found her arms grasped by him, holding her steady so she did not fall. “Let go of me!” she yelled, trying as hard as she could to get out of his grasp. He let go immediately, and without him to balance her, she fell onto the ground in a heap.

The man knelt down, a look of deep concern on his face. “Astrid, are you alright? What’s the matter? Why is Stormfly—”

A different winged dinosaur—or perhaps just some mosnter—this one almost… catlike, was gazing down at her as well. Black as the night, and much smaller than the large, blue and yellow and off-white dinosaur that had terrorized her when she woke up. Behind them, in the doorway, too large to get through, _was_ that dinosaur, letting out petrified bleats and trying so hard to get inside that Astrid was afraid the door frame would crack.

“Astrid,” the man reached for her, peering into her face with almost a petrified look on his own. “What’s the—”

“How do you know my name?” she whimpered, and hated herself for it. She was not a ‘whimpering’ type of person. Not much usually daunted her, and she could bullshit her way through most things in life if they did. But _this…_ getting lost in a strange land, falling off a cliff, this man—this place—these _monsters…_

It was too much even for her.

A strange look crossed the man’s face, and he shook his head slightly. “I…” he began. “I’m your husband. Don’t you remember, Astrid?”

Astrid blinked. This man was the same man who had kissed her after she had fallen off the cliff.

A sickening sense of realization hit her. The rustic cabin in the woods… a man dressed as if he was still a Viking… monstrous creatures… Her mind whirled as she realized she was just like those characters in horror films or books. This man was obviously crazy—perhaps he had given her something to make her hallucinate, to lower her defenses. This man had _kissed_ her and was now claiming to her _husband._ Fear trickled down her spine. She was wearing a nightgown—her clothes and pack were gone… what had this man done to her—or was planning on doing to her?

The fear she felt inside must have shown on her face, for the man immediately let go of her, a look of concern on his face. “Astrid…” he said, “Are you alright?”

The fear was quickly coupled with anger. There, that felt better. “How…” she said, slowly and carefully rising to her feet. “ _How_ do you know my name?”

The man rose along with her. He looked almost afraid, not of her, but somehow as if he couldn’t believe what she was saying.

“What is this place,” she hissed. “Who are you and what have you done to me?”

The man gave her an incredulous look. “You don’t… remember me?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Am I supposed to?”

She supposed to him, she was supposed to remember him. After all, he claimed to be her husband. He kissed her last night, or whenever it was, as if they were long lost lovers. She narrowed her eyes, “Where’s my stuff?”

He looked confused, and took a step towards her. She put up her hands, balling them into fists, and took a step backwards, away from him. He froze, his eyes widening a little. “Astrid…” he began, his voice sounding almost heart broken.

“Where,” she gritted out, “Are my clothes?”

“Those clothes we found you in?” he asked, “They’re… they’re being cleaned.”

“Okay, where’s your laundry room?” she asked, not risking to look around herself. She wouldn’t give this man the opportunity to attack her if she let her guard down.

“Laundry room?” the man echoed. “The washwomen are taking care of it—or at least they will, come wash day.”

 _Wash women… wash day…_ Astrid’s mind spun. What was this crazy man talking about?

A loud _crack_ could be heard, and the monster—Stormfly, she supposed was it’s name, managed to get its head inside, knocking the man aside and causing the black dragon to growl, though not aggressively. Astrid let out another yelp of fear, and back away quickly, so that the blue and dragon could not reach her. “Tell that _thing_ to stay away from me,” she said, her body quaking with fear.

The man stood up, brushing himself off. “I can’t do that,” he said. “She won’t listen to me. At least, not until she’s gotten used to having you back.”

“Having me… back?” Astrid said, startled. What was this man talking about? “I’ve never seen this thing in my life.”

“She’s not a thing,” the man said, walking around the dragon and giving it a wide berth.

He stopped near Astrid, and she suddenly felt like she wasn’t sure what to do—which creature was more threatening at the moment: the dinosaur… or the man.

“Astrid,” he said, “Astrid…. Hofferson?”

She froze. He knew her name...  _and_ her last name. That meant he must have found her passport... which meant he must have found her pack.

“You lost your memory,” he said, looking at her worriedly, but with a look of understanding. “When you came back to life… something must have happened, not all of you must have returned.”

Astrid stared at him. She could not believe what he was saying. “What the _hell_ are you talking about?”

“You died,” he said. “A year ago. And… the gods have returned you to us. I’m not sure how, as we gave you a warrior’s funeral… but…”

She continued to stare at him, the fear creeping back up her spine. This man was crazy. Bat. Shit. Crazy. She had to get out of here… and fast. Finding her clothes, be damned. She needed to get away from this man as fast as possible.

“I never died,” she said. “I’ve been alive and kicking for over thirty years.”

He blinked. “How old are you?”

“Thirty-Two,” she said, and then berated herself for giving him even that much personal information.

“That’s how old you would have been if you hadn’t died,” he replied. He frowned, as if finally understanding something she said. “Tell me,” he said. “What memories of your life do you have?”

She shook her head. “I’m not telling you anything more.” She back away from him and the other two creatures. “Just let me go back to Berk… and I won’t press charges…”

“Berk?” he looked surprised. “You’re _in_ Berk, Astrid.”

She shook her head. “Nope, not going to fall for that,” she said, gritting her teeth. There had to be another exit from this place. Another way out. There was a room behind her, probably a kitchen or storage room, and the man and the two creatures watched her with growing trepidation as she backed slowly and carefully towards the door.

“What are you doing—?” the man began, taking a step towards her.

“Don’t—” she began, putting her hands up. “Don’t you dare.”

He froze, staring at her, as she grasped the handle of the door behind her. The dinosaur caught in the doorway bellowed again, as she slipped through the door and closed it behind her. She heard the sound of wood being distended, creaking and cracking, and she dashed towards the back of the house, opening the backdoor and stepping out into the bright sunlight.

She rounded the house, and came to a thundering stop.

Where she was certainly _looked_ like Berk. At least, the structure of the land and the view of the sea. But everything else was completely different. The modern houses were replaced with viking homes much like the one she had just escaped from. Winged dinosaurs flew in the sky, rested on perches, or drank and ate from troughs. People were walking around, wearing traditional Viking clothing, and going about their daily tasks.

Realizing she must have stumbled upon a Viking cult, she shrank back, before something flittered into her vision. The blue and yellow dinosaur.

It bellowed again, and Astrid gave out another yell of surprise and fear as it thundered towards her. She heard the man shout the creature’s name, and she grunted in pain as the creature collided with her, knocking her to the ground and planting itself heavily onto her back, curling it’s large wings around her, blocking out the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued…
> 
> I’m so sorry that I just posted one chapter and then up and disappeared like that. I had to take a bit of a break from fic writing/posting and the timing was, admittedly, not good. I’m slowly easing my way back into it and will hopefully have Chapter 3 posted next weekend :)
> 
> *Edit, I forgot that viking women didn’t take their husbands name when marrying, so I did change this little chapter post-update. Just a few lines in the middle. Before: Hiccup mentioned she was now Astrid “haddock”. Now he mentions her as just Astrid “Hofferson” :)
> 
> Thanks for reading!  
> See you soon! (hopefully!)


	3. Chapter 3

Astrid didn’t even bother mentally berating herself this time for whimpering in both fear and discomfort. The large dinosaur creature was currently sitting on top of her, it’s large claws wrapped around her torso and legs, and its wings blocking out the world around her. She couldn’t budge a muscle.

“Stormfly!” she heard the man command, his voice taut with anger. “Stormfly—release her—”

Astrid’s body shook as the belly of the dinosaur on top of her rumbled, and it let out a bellow of rage. “Please…” she managed to gasp out. “Please let me go.”

The dinosaur shifted slightly, and she heard what had to be a curious, friendly chirp. A spot of light could be seen, and she felt the bottom of its large chin rub at the back of her head. That was beyond confusing. This creature was almost acting like it was a brooding chicken, not a predator preparing for its next meal.

“Please let me go, Stormfly,” Astrid said, loudly, and in a commanding tone.

The dinosaur—Stormfly, apparently—shifted again, before hesitantly stepping off of her, and Astrid was blinded by the sunlight. She blinked, struggling to her knees. The man and his own strange, large, cat-like dinosaur were standing before her, as well as now a small audience of other Viking reenactors. They all looked shocked to see her.

The man rushed towards her. “Astrid—”

Astrid struggled to her feet, “Don’t come any nearer,” she commanded, and the man halted, confusion on his face. She nearly fell over, if Stormfly hadn’t moved behind her, catching Astrid against one of her legs to keep her upright. Astrid quickly moved away. “Just tell this thing to get away from me!”

The man looked surprised by this, and a few people gasped. “Oh, shut _up,”_ Astrid snapped, rolling her eyes. “I don’t care about whatever NDA contract you signed, you can stop the act.”

She brushed of her knees. “And I’d like my clothes back, and my pack.” She looked up, and saw them all staring at her. Then, one by one, they all looked at the man. He was staring at her with a peculiar look on his face. “What?” she demanded.

“Astrid,” he said, stepping towards her. “Astrid, what happened to you?”

He looked concerned. Beyond concerned. The man looked like he was on the verge of a panic attack.

“Do _not_ take one more step towards me,” she said, putting up a hand to stop him.

He froze, and a few more of the bystanders gasped, looking at each other in confusion and worry.

“What’s _wrong_ with all of you?” she demanded. “Look, I don’t care if this is some kind of cult, or Viking Plymouth Plantation kind of place, I’m _not going to stick around.”_

She had just shoved past the man, Stormfly at her heels, when something clicked inside her mind. Dinosaurs… dinosaurs _with wings and…_

She watched a dinosaur in the distance touched down on a roost, and then bellowed flame.

_Flame._

_Fire._

She stared as another spit sparks at the other while on the roost.

A roost… that looked very familiar. So familiar, and yet so different. In perfect, or near perfect condition, unlike the well preserved but shambles its mirrored version was in the real Berk. It was almost as if she had seen it before.

She broke off into a run, and Stormfly chirped loudly behind her, following closely. Astrid the dinosaur tore through the village, not caring that her bare feet stung on the hard, cold, rough ground. People shouted out at her in shock as she ran past them. When she reached the cliff’s edge, she looked out at the water, then down at the docks below.

It was… it all the same. The docks were older, made of wood, not modern materials. But the cliffs were the same. The same beach. The same…

The same Berk. Just… how it would have been in the Viking Times.

She sat down heavily onto the ground, and Stormfly chirped again, nudging her worriedly.

Stormfly wasn’t a _dinosaur._ None of them were. They were… dragons.

And this… this _was_ Berk.

Just… before the dragons disappeared.

Astrid took in a heaving breath, and, unable to catch it again, felt herself fall backwards, darkness overcoming her before her head touched the ground.

* * *

She opened her eyes. Her vision was blurry, but she found herself looking into a handsome man’s face. “Hiccup…?” she murmured, reaching up and brushing her fingers against his beard.

The man’s eyes widened, and a hopeful look brightened his features. He clasped her hand in his own. “Do you remember now?” he asked, his voice breaking slightly.

She nodded, her vision still blurry and her mind numb. “Yes…” she managed to say.

Her mind cleared.

She was alone. In a room—the same one she had first woken up in. They—the villagers or cultists, or whomever they were—must have carried her here after she passed out. The dragons—her mind spun at the thought of _dragons_ —were no where to be seen. At least that creepy man seemed to have gotten them to stay away from her. She drew her knees up to her chest, burrowing her face into the blankets and furs rumpled around her legs. What was going _on?_

Had she really, _really_ fallen back in time? But there were _dragons,_ and even if there weren’t, there certainly were no dinosaurs in the present. And these monsters were spitting _fire._

The man—Hiccup? She froze, realizing that she knew his name, but couldn’t recall him ever telling her. She must have made it up in her sleep. After all, who would name their child “Hiccup”?

But no… where had she heard the name Hiccup before? It was odd enough that it should stand out in her memory. She blinked.

Hiccup… Horrendous… _Haddock._

She sat up straighter. The famous viking chief of Berk. The Dragon… Tamer. Her eyes widened. Had she gone back to _his_ time? That would… well, _nothing_ about any of this made _any sense._ But…

There was a creak, and she looked up to see a set of small, dark green eyes gazing back at her, before they quickly disappeared. Frowning, Astrid tilted her head, and watched as two small children stepped into the room. One was a small boy, perhaps four or five years old, with platinum blonde hair, and those dark green eyes. The other was a girl, perhaps six or seven, with two reddish-brown braids that stuck out from her head, and bright blue-green eyes. They stood in the doorway, staring at her.

Astrid stared back. Though she had never seen either of these children before, they seemed familiar to her, as if she _should_ know them.

“Daddy said we weren’t supposed to come up,” the girl said, still staring at her intently. The little boy, her brother, perhaps, held onto her thick skirt, hiding behind her somewhat, also staring at Astrid.

Astrid blinked. “Who is your Daddy?” she asked.

The girl looked at her brother, and both children looked back at her. Confusion and a touch of fear were on their faces. “His name is Hiccup.”

Astrid swallowed. The man’s name _was_ Hiccup. She didn’t know what he looked like—how could she have guessed in her near-unconscious state that hew as the same Viking Chief she had briefly read up on in her preparations for this trip? But that thought was pushed to the side as a more alarming one replaced it. That man thought she was his dead wife, brought back to life. That must mean his children must think…

“Just so you know, I’m not your—” Astrid began, but stopped when she heard someone running up the steps. A second later, the man—Hiccup, stepped into the room.

“Kyri, Árni, what did I tell you?”

“Momma needs sleep,” the girl said, shuffling her feet. “But we _really_ wanted to see her, Daddy!”

The boy nodded.

Hiccup sighed, before glancing over at Astrid. “Later,” he promised the children. They nodded solemnly, before looking at Astrid one last time, and disappearing out the door and down the steps. Hiccup turned to look at her. “You… you’re awake?”

“Clearly,” she said, flatly.

Hiccup nodded, before walking over to the bed. He hesitated, before sitting down on the bed beside her. “How are you feeling?”

He reached for her, but she lightly smacked his hand away. “Don’t touch me,” she snarled. “Look, I realize now that you… you were telling the truth. I’m… I’m really on Berk. The real Berk. But… I’m _not_ your wife.”

Hiccup’s eyes widened. “But… you remembered. You remembered who I was.”

“Yeah, because you’re famous,” Astrid said, rolling her eyes. “Look, I may _look_ like your dead wife, or whatever, but she and I are _not_ the same person. For starters, I was born quite a few centuries after her.”

She paused as Hiccup stared at her. “What?” he said, blankly.

“I was born in the year Nineteen-Eighty-Six,” Astrid said.

“That’s… not possible.” Hiccup was looking at her as if _she_ were the crazy one, not the man who thought his wife _came back to life._

“I don’t care if you don’t believe me,” she said, crossing her arms before wincing. Her chest and ribs still ached from when that dragon caught her when she and her pack fell off the cliff. “But it’s the ruth. I’ve lived my whole life up till this point, and I’ve never met you before. I _can’t_ be your wife.”

“But—” Hiccup began. “You have the same scars, moles even, and the same birthmark.” He pointed at her lower stomach, where her birthmark resided.

Astrid felt a cold chill run over her. This man knew what her body looked like. That she even had a birthmark, and where it was. That meant that he had to have been at least present when she was undressed and put into this night gown. Perhaps he was even the one to do it.

“What…” She said, her jaw clenching as she spoke around her anger. “How do you know that?”

He blinked. “What are you talking about?”

“Did you undress me?” she asked, meeting his gaze with distrust and growing dislike.

He blinked again. “You’re my _wife,_ Astrid—”

“I am _not_ your wife!” she shouted. He sat back, surprised by her outburst. She would have felt ashamed at herself for losing her temper, but she was up to _here_ with this creep. He kidnapped her, kissed her against her will, undressed her, and was now insisting that they were _married._ “I’ve never met you before in my whole life,” she spat. “Now, give me back my clothes. I don’t want to be in this… nightdress anymore. And my pack! Give me back my pack. And find me somewhere else to sleep. I’ll sleep outside if I have to—just not in this house.”

He stared at her. “You really don’t—”

“Stop,” she said, closing her eyes and willing herself to calm down. She threw the covers and furs off herself, slipping out of the bed on the other side. Hiccup watched her with growing alarm as she walked around the bed and towards the door that led downstairs.

“Where are you going?” he asked, panic clear in his voice.

“Out,” she said. “You,” she pointed at him. “I don’t like you. I don’t want you anywhere near me.”

She pulled the door open and walked downstairs. The two children were sitting at the table, and both sprang out of their seats at the sight of her. They both looked like they wanted to say something, but before they had the chance, she said, forcibly, “And I’m _not_ your mom!”

She pulled the front door open, and stepped outside. The door slammed behind her.

She took in a deep breath of salty sea air. She exhaled angrily. Stuck in the past be damned. Fine. So be it. But she was _not_ that man’s wife, or those children’s mother. And she wouldn’t let anyone try to convince her otherwise.

She started down the path, not caring that she was barely dressed by even modern standards.

She would find someone—anyone, and have them get her clothes back. Then, she would find someone to stay with. For the night. She needed some food, and rest, and then she would go in search for a way back home.

A way back to present day.

Astrid paused partway down a dirt road. Viking houses lined the ‘street’, and a few people stared at her. Shivering, and realizing she was wearing basically nothing, she crossed her arms over her chest, and fought the urge to start crying. Not that she _wanted_ to cry, of course. But…

It was all just so overwhelming.

“Astrid?”

She froze. It was a woman who had spoken, and Astrid turned to gaze at an older woman, perhaps forties or fifties, who was looking at her with tears in her eyes. The woman had blonde hair that was partly white and grey, and brown eyes. Astrid had never seen this woman before, and yet, as with the children, there was something familiar about her. “Do I know you?” Astrid asked, frowning.

The woman blinked, opening her mouth to speak. “Do you not remember me?” the woman asked.

Astrid shook her head. “No, why? Should I?”

The woman gave her a watery smile. “I suppose not,” she said. “But I know you.”

“Right, because I’m ‘Hiccup’s wife,’” Astrid said, resisting the urge to roll her eyes.

“No,” the woman shook her head. “Because I’m your _mother,_ Astrid.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued…
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> *NOTE: I totally spaced and forgot that viking women didn’t take their husband’s name when they got married. Originally, in Chapter 2 Hiccup called Astrid “Astrid Haddock” but in reality, she would still be Astrid Hofferson. I changed about two lines worth of Chapter 2 to better align with this fact :)
> 
> See you soon!


	4. Chapter 4

Astrid’s eyes widened. For a moment, she felt like a child again, wishing on every birthday, new years eve, and holiday that her parents would come to find her. Get her out of the foster care system and that she could finally be part of a family.

Just like… just like those children. Hoping she was their long lost mother. Astrid’s heart sank deep into her chest. Though she hadn’t raised her voice, she had spoken harshly to them, and now she felt regret numb her arms and make her legs feel week. She shouldn’t have spoken that way to them, even if what she said was true.

The woman before her tilted her head, gazing at her with a watery smile. “What’s wrong, Dear?”

This woman certainly _looked_ like her, Astrid noted. In another life, she _could_ have been her mother. Possibly.

“You’re not…” Astrid began, fighting the overwhelmingly conflicting emotions inside her. “That’s not possible,” Astrid said. “I don’t have a mother.”

The woman smiled again. “You just don’t remember me,” she said, softly.

“No, I mean, I grew up without a mother, or father,” Astrid said. “Trust me, I think I would remember having parents.”

The woman blinked, frowning. Then she smiled again, as if she finally understood what Astrid was saying. “Well,” she said, gently, “You don’t have to believe that I’m your mother, but I care about you very much, Astrid.” The woman reached out a hand to her. “My name is Gritta.” After a moment’s pause, she added, “My husband’s name is Brandr Hofferson.”

Astrid’s eyes widened slightly.

The woman offered her hand again. “Let’s get you out of that shift and into something a little… _more,_ why don’t we?”

Astrid nodded slowly. She reached out, and took the woman’s hand.

* * *

 

The house of the Hoffersons—Berk’s Hoffersons—was homey, comfortable, and most importantly, _warm._ “Your father—my husband—is out on a fishing trip. But he’ll back in a few days. He’ll be… so happy to see you. To know that you’re alive.” The woman—Gritta, motioned to another middle-aged woman. The woman came over, smiling wondrously at Astrid. “This is Gritsnap, my older sister,” Gritta said. She turned to Gritsnap. “Astrid doesn’t remember us.”

Gritsnap nodded. “I thought as much,” she said. “I was there when you ran to the cliff’s edge.”

Astrid felt her cheeks warm. “Oh,” she said. “I… didn’t realize I had such a wide audience.”

Gritsnap smiled warmly at Astrid, before stepping forward and almost looking like she was about to hug her. Then, with some effort, she stopped herself. Casually, a little _too_ casually, Gritsnap said, “Well, you look _starved._ I’ll prepare some stew, bread and cheese for you, as well as some Meade. That’ll warm you up.”

“Thanks,” Astrid said, appreciatively. “That would be… Thanks.”

Gritta nodded, as Gritsnap began to prepare Astrid’s meal. “Come, sit by the fire,” Gritta said, motioning for Astrid to sit on a fur covered bench. As she warmed her hands by the fire, Gritta disappeared to the other end of the house, then returned with a dress. “I’m afraid it’s much too large,” she said. “Both Gritsnap and I are much larger than you are. But it’ll keep you covered and warm.”

Astrid took the dress. She frowned. “I’m not sure…I know how to put this on.”

Gritta and Gritsnap glanced at each other. “Of course,” Gritta said. “Come with me, I’ll help you.”

Astrid stood up and followed Gritta to a private part of the open house, and after a few minutes effort, Astrid was wearing a much-too-large but comfortable dress. “Thanks,” she said. “Do you know where my clothes are? The ones that man—Hiccup found me in?”

Gritta cocked her head. “I assume they’re at the wash house,” she said. “They needed desperately to be cleaned and tended to, and we’re not quite sure what to make of the fabric, or how to treat it. When it’s cleaned you can have them back. For now, you can wear your old clothes. I know for a fact Hiccup still hasn’t been able to bring himself to get rid of any of your old things, so you’ll have plenty of clothes to choose from.”

Astrid nodded, and followed Gritta back to the fire, where Gritsnap was waiting with the food. It tasted good—and on Astrid’s far too empty stomach, it was manna from heaven.

“What _were_ you doing walking around in nothing but your shift?” Gritsnap asked, as she began to clean the cauldron the leftover stew had been in.

“I… I didn’t want to be in that house anymore,” Astrid said, after swallowing.

“Oh?” Gritta looked concerned. “Why not?”

“I’m not Hiccup’s wife. He’s…” she sighed. “I don’t know how to say this, but he weirds me out. I don’t want him anywhere near me.”

Gritta and Gritsnap glanced at each other, surprised.

“Well,” Gritta said, sounding unsure, “Why don’t you stay here for the night? Or however long you wish to. Kyri and Árni have been staying here the last year as well, after you… after you…” Gritta paused, glancing at Gritsnap again, before looking at Astrid. “Well, you’re welcome to stay here as long as you’d like.”

Astrid nodded. “Thank you.” And she meant it. “But I’m not really your daughter. You realize that, right?”

Gritita glanced at Gritsnap again, before looking at Astrid. “Of course,” she said. “Of course I know that.”

But Astrid knew both women still thought she was Gritta’s long lost daughter. For a moment, Astrid thought she should deny the invitation to stay there. Perhaps it wouldn’t be right, to take advantage of this woman’s hospitality when these women clearly thought she was someone else. But she knew no one else here, and the alternative was _Hiccup’s_ house.

But with those two children staying here… Astrid felt another stab of guilt, then a few more. When they arrived at their grandmother’s for the night, she would have to apologize—try to make things right. Hiccup might be a Grade A creep, but his children weren’t.

“Is something wrong?” Gritta asked.

Astrid glanced at her, before saying, shame settling deep in her gut. “I kind of… did something I regret. While at Hiccup’s house.”

Gritta raised an eyebrow. “What did you do?”

“I told Hiccup’s kids I wasn’t their mom,” Astrid said. “I mean, I’m not. But… it just kind of came out wrong. I hadn’t meant it to sound as… mean as it did. I was worked up and…” she sighed, looking down at her feet. “It was a mistake,” she said.

Gritta gazed at her. “Well, I wasn’t there, so I can’t confirm or deny that,” she said. “But… children are children. You should apologize, if you feel that you hurt them in some way.”

Astrid nodded.

“They’ll be here soon for the night, you can apologize then,” Gritta said.

“Okay,” Astrid said. “Thank you.”

Gritta nodded.

“If I may ask,” Astrid said, “Why are Hiccup’s children staying here? Instead of at his house?”

“Oh,” Gritta said, standing. She began to help Gritsnap with cleaning up after Astrid’s meal. “It was my idea, but Hiccup was thankful, I think. As chief and leader of the village, he… he has his hands full. And…” Gritta paused, looking sad. “He was so devastated after your death, he was in a bad place. He could barely take care of himself, let alone two small children, _and_ maintain his duties as Chief. And as their grandmother, I felt it was my duty to help.”

Astrid nodded slowly. That certainly explained whyHiccup was acting the way he was around her. But…

She still didn’t like him.

Not. One. Bit.

The door opened, the wind blowing in, before the door quickly shut. Astrid looked over to see Hiccup’s two children rush forward. “Nanna, Daddy said for us to come here—” They both froze when they saw Astrid.

“Hey,” she said, putting down her plate and smiling at them.

She got up from her seat and walked over to them, crouching down so they were face to face.

“How are you?” she began, before wincing, “I mean… I’m… I’m sorry I wasn’t very nice before. It was… it was not great of me. I wasn’t upset at _you_ , I was… well, there isn’t any excuse. I shouldn’t have said that to you that way.”

The girl still looked at Astrid with a hesitant expression. “Are you our momma now?” the little boy asked, taking a small step towards Astrid.

Astrid looked helplessly at Gritta.

Gritta sighed knowingly, before patting Astrid on the shoulder. “Árni, Kyri, Astrid here, is…” Gritta glanced at Astrid. “She’s not the same person as Momma. She’s… she’s a little different.”

The two children glanced at Astrid, clearly confused.

“I… I don’t remember you,” Astrid said softly, and both children looked at her with surprise. “But… I don’t remember anyone here. Not just you. And… just because I’m not your mom, doesn’t mean… we can’t be friends.”

Both children looked at her in surprise. “Friends?” the girl asked, her stony expression fading.

Astrid nodded. “Yeah, I mean… I never had a mom growing up, so I can’t… imagine what it would be like to lose her. I can’t replace your mom, but I can be your friend. Is that okay? I’d like to be your friend, if you… if you can forgive me?”

The little girl nodded slowly. The boy stepped forward, and place his small, pale hand on Astrid’s arm. “Yeah, yes,” he said, smiling up at her.

“His name is Árni, and the girl is Kyri,” Gritta said to Astrid.

Kryi still stood back a ways, gazing at Astrid with a strange expression. “You’re really not my Momma?” she asked.

Astrid nodded.

Kyri bit her lip. Then she sighed dramatically. “Okay,” she said. “But… why are you mad at Daddy?”

Astrid glanced, panicked, at Gritta. She definitely couldn’t say why in front of these kids. “I just… I don’t know,” Astrid said, smiling around her panic.

“Why don’t you two go to your room, and play with your toys,” Gritta said, ushering the two children towards the ladder. When both children had disappeared upstairs, Gritta turned to Astrid. “Árni doesn’t remember you much, I mean, his mother, much, I think. He’s only a little past four and a half. Kyri is almost seven. It’ll be harder for her to adjust to you not being the mother she wants back.”

Astrid nodded, gazing down at her cup of Meade. She felt retched. But… it would be dishonest and much worse for her to pretend to be someone she was not. To give these people the false hope that someone they obviously cared for a lot, a daughter and wife and mother, had returned to them. No, she might have to break a few hearts, but they would recover. In the end, it would be what’s best for them. She wasn’t their daughter, or wife, or mother. She was just… herself. Astrid Hofferson. A _different_ Astrid Hofferson. Somehow. With the same markings and scars and birthmark, apparently.

She shook her head, clearing her mind of that disturbing thought.

“If it’s too difficult for the children for me to be here, I can look elsewhere for lodgings,” Astrid said.

“Nonsense,” Gritsnap said. “The children will be fine. It’ll be an adjustment. But family is family, regardless if we’re related by blood or not.”

Astrid blinked in surprise at these words.

She had never had a family.To be accepted so easily into one was… startling. Pleasant, but startling. Again, she felt a stab of guilt. _She wasn’t the one they were hoping for—she wasn’t the one they loved._ Perhaps she really should go find somewhere else to stay. But instead, she nodded her head.

It couldn’t be _too_ harmful to… see what it was like to be part of a family, would it?

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued…?
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> See you soon?


End file.
